


In Your Orbit

by robins4ever



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin Eternal (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Death puns, General Bat Antics, Heist, M/M, Mobster Jason Todd, Nothing here that's for sure, Police Officer Dick Grayson, what is canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robins4ever/pseuds/robins4ever
Summary: Inspired by an Orbit gum commercial (you know, the 'Clean it up with Orbit!' and the pretty *ding* smile thing) where a dude is trying to get a date during the middle of a bank robbery.





	In Your Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> Severe plot holes (and/or poor formatting) may be ahead, proceed with caution.

     “So, what are you doing after this?” The guy to my left asked. I looked at him in disbelief; this was a hold-up and he was seriously asking for a date?  


     Although, he was pretty cute. I couldn’t help but smile back. “Uh. Probably working.” As in, cleaning up this mess and tracking down the band of doll-masked criminals currently loading their hijacked trucks full of Gotham National’s funds. But he didn’t need to know that.

     “Okay, what about after that?”

     “Sleeping?”

     The guy made a disapproving noise. “Come on, there’s gotta be some time for coffee dates somewhere in your schedule.” One of the masked figures to the right turned to them. They were all armed with standard issue rifles. If things went south, someone was bound to get hurt.

     “Maybe ask me after we’re out of this mess.” The man moved toward them. I tried to look as small as possible while still tracking their movements. My admirer, on the other hand, was not so wise.

     “Hey man, how’s it going?” The guy asked the gunman conversationally. The cracked doll face was creepy as it cocked to the side to assess the audacious captive. “Nice arms you got there, and I ain’t talking about the gun.” Red hair fell across the hidden face as the man raised the butt of his rifle, making to hit the other across the head. I moved before I could stop myself. Endangered citizen equaled protective Tim, no matter how painfully stupid said citizen might be.

     I kicked the guy’s feet out from under him. The crouch it brought me to was much more comfortable than lying on my stomach for the past four minutes, but now there were several guns trained in my direction, and at least twenty-two hostages between me and their barrels. I slowly raised my hands and stood, making no move to disarm the dropped man who was already regaining his footing. “Listen, I’m not trying to start anything here, but is it really necessary to hit a man when he’s already on the ground?”

     The man I’d knocked down roughly grabbed my jaw and backed me into a nearby pillar. I itched to feed him his own teeth, but couldn’t risk doing anything of the sort as Tim Drake. One good kick I could get away with. Singlehandedly taking down nine thugs while keeping all civilians safe? Not so much.

     He shoved the gun under my chin, finger beginning to squeeze the trigger. Without looking away he jerked his head forward. One of his accomplices came forward to drag the other man off the ground, positioning him into a choke hold with a handgun to the temple. “Did you have something you’d like to say?”

     The voice was eerily distorted when coupled with their cracked porcelain masks, more so when the man regarded me with such a calm tone.

     “Hey, come on man, you really gonna pick on us just because I was trying to get some digits?” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. My captor sent a back kick into the other guy’s stomach to shut him up. It was the most quiet he’d been yet.

     “I know it’s insane, but he’s telling the truth. He asked me on a date and I told him we would discuss it later. I don’t even know his name.” The tension was thicker than when Damian and I got seated near one another for dinner.

     He regarded me long enough to turn my stomach, probably to deliberate if getting rid of me would be worth the flood of officers and cutting their operation short. Something in his eyes said it would.

     Apparently someone monitoring had decided it was a close enough call even without pulling the trigger. The SWAT team busted through the doors, took aim and immediately opened fire on the three criminals. The stranger and I dropped to the floor as soon as we were released. “You okay?” He asked.

     The red headed man ducked behind the pillar for cover as he returned fire. Bullets thunked into heavy shields before they could embed themselves into any of the officers.  
Despite fully armed men that outnumbered them three to fourteen, they never showed a hint of hesitation. He circled the pillar where the stranger lay beside me, and slid a handgun across to the man. The same man who he’d just kicked to the ground, who had relentlessly flirted with me and built a rainbow skyscraper of hopes of getting a date, only to collapse everything with one wink at me before he opened fire on the pressing SWAT team.

     I dropped my face to the ground, only to be dragged up from my pity puddle by a forceful tug. Before I could shake the choke hold he’d managed to force me into, the cool press of metal to my temple had me rethinking. The order from the other side was immediate.

     “Hold fire!” An unnerving amount of guns remained sighted on us, but I make quite the effective human shield.

     “Sorry boys, I’d love to stay but I got places to be, people to shoot. The usual.” My captor’s voice echoed airily off the lofted ceilings. In a well-timed moment of grandeur, the skylights shattered inward and thick sheets of glass exploded on marble flooring. People clad in complete black zipped down ropes suspended from a helicopter. One landed directly beside us and unclipped himself from the rappel system, only to hook my captor in by a harness he’d been wearing under his nicely tailored clothes the entire time.

     I began to slink away on hands and knees, staying lower than the open fire that hailed from both sides again. To my horror the newly arrived accomplice shoved me toward their boss, who locked his arms around me and maintained the grip, despite my forceful struggles, as the heli took off and the ground became smaller. “Is this your idea of a romantic getaway!” I screamed over the sound of gunfire and blades cutting the air.

     The man laughed before he handed me off to another, this time in the aircraft, who hauled me in and shoved me to a corner. I was quick to round on my captors; now out of the public eye, I could pull a few more risky moves without worrying that all of Gotham was watching and there might be one smart kid out there to recognize the moves of a commonly sighted crime-fighter. Bared teeth and all, I landed a vicious kick to the guard’s torso. She flew backward, nearly into the controls, but caught herself on a pilot seat.

     “Listen, you little spitfire, this can be easy if you’ll just-” I shut him up with a reverse hook kick aimed at the jaw, maybe with a little extra force than necessary for leading me on. He blocked it with a forearm and advanced. I grabbed him by the shoulder and dropped all my weight into a roll, feet on his hips to effectively send him flying over my head. He landed with a heavy grunt. The guard had recovered now and threw a punch directly at my nose. I ducked and slipped under, tackling her to the ground and hit her hard enough across the face to bloody my own knuckles but knock her out cold.

     I turned back to face the other guy. “So, mob boss, huh? I would’ve thought you to be a more white collar worker.”

     “I tried embezzlement a couple time, just didn’t suit me. Getting your hands dirty is just so much more fun.” He lunged and I dodged. “You’re quick, kid. I’ll tell you if you’ll tell me. Call it a fair trade.”

     I kept my hands up as we began to circle. The only other person on board was in the pilot seat, and they seemed quite content to keep flying, most likely under the boss’s direction. “Excuse me if I don’t trust the man who just kidnapped me to make a fair trade. And tell you what? My name? You should already know that, unless it’s a regular thing to kidnap all the pretty boys on a whim.”

     “I won’t deny that I can be impulsive, but you’re worth twenty times more than anything they had locked up in that place, Tim Drake.”

     It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. It was enough for him to knock my guard down and land a right punch that wouldn’t take long to bruise. I grabbed for a foot to swipe but he was stable, simply kicked me over instead and pinned me face down to the floor. There wasn’t much I could do to resist the handcuffs clicking in place; at least, nothing even a well-trained citizen would be likely to know. I still made it difficult by kicking and jerking about.

     He sat on me and got comfortable. The click of a lighter sounded, followed by the smell of cigarette. I paused. “Are you seriously taking a smoke break on top of me?”

     “Yep.” He replied matter-of-factly between puffs. “Unless you prefer to be on top?” I didn’t have to see the satisfied smile to know it was there, just as he probably didn’t need to see my face heat up to know he had effectively embarrassed me. “Also, I didn’t mean let’s hold hands and exchange names. You’re clearly a cape. I was just curious to know which one.”

     It could be recorded as the second time in ten minutes that this man had been able to make me freeze up. What was I supposed to say to that? ‘Actually, you also captured Red Robin, which I’m sure could greatly increase your ransom if you sold me back to Batman, or maybe the Joker would give you a higher bid.’ Let’s not.

     “Uh, if I were that skilled, I’m pretty sure I would have kicked all of your butts without a scrape or civilian casualty. Also,” I added in a dramatically emphasized tone for good measure, “if I had a super secret like that, I’m not going to disclose it to a guy who hasn’t even shared his name with me.” He chucked his cigarette butt out the open side door. Two hands hooked under my arms picked me up and deposited me onto a bench lining the wall.

     He made sure his face was the only thing in my scope of vision before introducing himself. “Jason Todd, AKA the Red Hood. Gotham crime lord, modern day Robin Hood but with guns, died and risen again.”

     My mouth dropped open. Of course he’d recognized me; we’d crossed paths on more than one occasion. I’d thrown the darn guy in jail three times now, but his influence could pick the lock of the darkest, coldest cell in Gotham. But I never imagined the face underneath the helmet would be so young. Or so attractive. “Dear God,” I whispered.

     “I mean I’m more of a Jesus than anything, a Lazarus, really, if you want to be specific. But you can call me Jason.” He leaned back against the wall and comfortably stretched his feet out to rest them across my lap.

     This situation got worse by the second, but nothing could top the drama of being a vigilante with a crush on one of your biggest enemies. I always pictured myself as more of a walking sitcom, but at the moment my life was the perfect plotline of a bad fanfiction.

     This ship would not sail. This ship would go down if I had to sink it myself.

     I opened my mouth to pop out about a million questions, but he cut me off. “Get comfortable, kid, we got a ways to go. And we’re gonna have a while to get to know each other, so we can kick back for a while.” He shook another cigarette out of the carton and slipped on some sunglasses, staring out over the glittering ocean where the waves caught the sunset.

 

 

     “Captain Grayson, suspects have escaped with a hostage.” A headache pounded into his skull. Vickie Vale and her cameraman were easily spotted among the crowd of officers escorting the remaining civilians out. Their eyes met and he quickly looked away, moved in the opposite direction to see if any of his team might have more information.

     He found his superior already hard at work orchestrating the next plan. They already had Gotham aircraft in pursuit, individual teams en route for the vehicles on the ground and the helicopter that carried away who must’ve been in charge along with the hostage. “What’s his name?” Dick asked.

     “Drake,” Commissioner Gordon reported with a grimace. “Almost 20, already sharp enough to be taking charge of his father’s company while his parents go on an extended vacation.”

     “Have the parents been notified of the situation?” Gordon threw the file he’d been reading from back into his cruiser and made toward the flock of news reporters as Grayson trailed along.

     The older man sighed. “He has, said he’s willing to pay whatever the demand will be as long as it’s within reason. They’re getting ready to take Drake Industries to the next level and expand globally; depleting assets now would be detrimental to that dream.” Dick bit his own lip on his opinion. It wouldn’t be professional.

     Gordon patted him heavily on the shoulder and sighed. “We’ll get him back.” That reassuring smile was warm and confident underneath his coffee-stained mustache. Dick couldn’t help smiling back.  
Until he was pushed toward Miss Vale. “Now, I need you to go make a statement, and I’m not nearly as charming as I used to be.” He knew Bruce probably wouldn’t appreciate his face being broadcast, but whether it was as Officer Grayson or Billionaire Bruce Wayne’s young ward he’d never been able to escape the media spotlight.

     Vickie herself was plenty used to them sharing a frame. She smiled and cued him over with an introduction. He delivered the update succinctly, was dismissed with a thanks, and eagerly slipped away from the crowd. Few one would take notice of his abrupt absence in the resounding chaos of the situation, and those that did would receive a logical explanation from the Commissioner. Or, at the very least, they wouldn’t question his authoritative nonsense.

     When he was far enough away, he slipped into a nearby alley to make a quick change. It was more a quick strip down than anything, and once his domino was pressed into place he found a nook up hidden away on a rooftop.

     “Hey, ‘Wing, nice of you to join us. That was a beautiful speech, by the way.” He laughed.

     “Thanks, Oracle. What’s the situation?”

     Batman cut in with a slight crackle over the line. “Looks like this operation is under Red Hood. Nightwing, I want you on rescue with Robin, he’ll be over in the Batwing soon.” In perfect timing, the sleek black machine pulled up. He jumped onto the wing and down into the cockpit. He couldn’t help but smile at his brother, so young, piloting one of the most expensive and advanced pieces of equipment in existence.

     “Any idea why Red Hood’s targeting the Drakes’ son?” He switched on the navigation systems and scanned for a nearby Robinson R-44 to lock onto, found it easy enough already a few miles out from the harbor. It was going to have to turn around soon or risk running out of fuel, which meant the same for the Hood’s. Which meant he was going to have another getaway vehicle waiting somewhere. “I mean, he usually has a reason to target who he does. Do you know if the Drake business is running under some sketchy protocols? Does _Bruce Wayne_ have any insight he could contribute?” He asked the last bit with a waggle of eyebrows. 

     Damian turned to give him a heated glare. He shrugged in return. Batman replied, “Alfred and Oracle are searching for intelligence. If Wayne knows anything, he’ll be sure to report it to the police later. Batman out.”

     “Your tactical methods of inquiry never cease to amaze me, Grayson.” His voice was flat.

     “Thanks, Robin, I learned from the best.” With the navigation system in lock, he moved to the back with compartments that contained an assortment of extra gear. Red Robin would most likely want to join in the action upon rescue; he found most of the parts to a spare suit sans wing box.

     The boy made a tch of disapproval. “My father is a fine mentor; you obviously weren’t paying attention.” As an extra punch, he abruptly sped up and sent Dick into the back wall with a satisfactory clang. The man rubbed the tenderness from his head and smiled.

     “Careful, you wouldn’t want him to know your true feelings.” Damian glared back and Dick tapped his comm in answer. Just because B signed off didn’t mean he wasn’t listening.  
His mini-me, however, completely disregarded the warning, with maybe just a trace of blush. “Twenty seconds until drop,” was all he got in return.

     Dick hoisted the bag of Red Robin gear onto himself and tightened the straps. The salt of sea spray settled onto him when he approached the opening. It’d be maybe a twenty-five foot drop down; barely anything. As predicted, a boat that most likely contained their targets bobbed on the waves. They were pulling it close, but that’s what made it fun. What’s a few mile sprint in the cold harbor off Gotham in mid-March?

     He liked to call it training.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! Constructive critiquing is always appreciated, just be gentle (or don't, but I might bite back).


End file.
